


we are the fire, we see how they run

by ohmygodwhy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, ozai's a horrible father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygodwhy/pseuds/ohmygodwhy
Summary: lift me higher, let me look at the sunor: zuko has been so many different things in his life





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1st fic of 2k17!!!!! back at it again w/ that unnecessary introspective nonsense!!!!!! i love my boy!!!!!!

 

1\. First, he was a son. That’s what he thinks he was at the beginning—simple enough, something he was born into. He was a prince, too, of course—a fire lit by the Sages to announce a new royal birth—but mostly, he was a son. A nephew, a cousin, a grandchild. 

He remembers his mother’s hair spilling around his head as she hummed to him; he remembers his father’s eyes. It is faint, but he remembers. 

 

2. He was a firebender. It took a few (too many, too many, he didn’t bend until after his _little sister_ did) years, but one day, while his mother was in the room with him, reading, he sneezed and accidentally set the curtains on fire. 

His father gave him an appraising look, like he was finally worth something more than a first born non-bender, and his mother looked proud, and his sister looked something like annoyed. 

Zuko—Zuko was _relived_ , even at five he was so _so_ relieved. He’d always felt better in the sunlight, always stirred at dawn before he rolled over and went back to sleep, and it was such a relief to know _why_ , to _understand_ (granted, he wasn’t a very _good_ firebender, limbs clumsy and frustrated when he couldn’t get it right, but he understood, and he would get better, he was sure).

 

3.He was a prince. He was not a very good prince. He knew, because his father eyed him like he was less than dirt sometimes, like he wished Azula had been born first. He also knew he probably wasn’t a very good son either, because Father locked him in storage closets and singed the back of his neck and if he was a good son Father wouldn’t have a reason to do these things. If he was a good son he would learn better, stop being so. Small. Lesser. 

(He wasn’t a good son, because Mother woke him up in the middle of the night and then she left; she was gone, maybe she was dead, and it was probably Zuko’s fault.)

And then he was the crown prince, suddenly, and he was a lot more important now because Father was Fire Lord and Uncle was not—Lu Ten was dead and Uncle was broken and so Father had to step in ( _step in?_ Zuko thought, _or take it?_ and then cursed himself for doubting his father like that).

He also was not a very good crown prince, more lessons and stricter training regiment and a broken arm, once, a twisted ankle another time, Azula trying hard not to limp another. 

 

4. He was a nephew. Uncle came home, eventually, all tired and sad eyes and weary smiles and _would you like to have some tea with me, Prince Zuko?_

He wasn’t sure whether or not he was a good nephew, because he hadn’t exactly had the best luck with family members so far, but Uncle seemed to enjoy his company well enough. That was enough for him. 

 

5.He was an exile. He was shamed and cast-out and a disgrace to his family, to his nation.

( _he had only been trying to help, why didn’t father see that why didn’t he understand? he just wanted what was best for his country that’s all he ever wanted he just wanted to help—“rise and fight”, but he couldn’t, because he was weak and afraid and he couldn’t fight his father)_

The bandages wrapped around his eye and his head felt heavy as he walked to his new little life, his new little purpose. Uncle was a warm presence, hand around his shoulder to support him (frustrated tears stinging his eyes because he couldn’t even _walk_ by himself) and Zuko had no idea why he was coming with him, because Zuko hadn’t listened to him, and gone and ruined everything.But either way, he was. Grateful. He didn’t know if he could do this by himself. He had no idea where to start. 

(He shatters the mirror when he sees his scar for the first time. He yells at Uncle and throws things sometimes and vaguely wants to jump into the ocean other times. He pours over books and maps because he will be ready to face the Avatar, he trains ceaselessly, pushing himself to his outermost limits no matter how Uncle sighs at him and shakes his head, because he will be _ready.)_

(He looks into the mirror one morning, a year and a half later, tired and breathing to keep himself steady and block out the hand and the fire from his dream, and hates the person he’s become.)

 

6.He was a villain—to the Avatar and his friends, he was the bad guy, the evil Fire Prince who hunted them down. He didn’t care what they thought of him. He just wanted to go home. 

 

7.He was a spirit. He walked on the wind in the night, he fought with grace he rarely possessed in the day, he was skilled with his swords and he belonged to no nation. Under the mask, he was free. 

 

8. He was a traitor, on the run from his own nation, his own sister. Father wanted him dragged home in chains. He’d worked—he’d worked so _hard_ , for _so long_ , and he had nothing to show for it but hair floating down the stream and an old Earth Kingdom knife and his uncle standing beside him.

He wondered what his mother would think of him now.

 

9. He was a thief. He was not proud of him, but he was a thief. He stole from the girl who saved his uncle’s life and then he parted ways with him. 

(Some small part of him hoped that maybe Uncle would follow, will find him. For now, though—he wasn’t sure what it is he was looking for, but he had to find it himself.)

 

10. He was alone. He was starving and he was thirsty and he was kicked out of a town he tried to help.

He was alone. 

 

11. He was a refugee—a damn _tea server_ , later. Practically the furthest from royalty you could get. 

Days blended into each other, a never-ending flow of customers and sweeping floors and washing dishes and trying not to think about how much he felt like he was disappearing (he didn’t want to disappear).

He was insignificant. He was trapped. He was desperate. 

Eventually, though, he was. Maybe not happy, exactly, but. Content.

 

12\. He was a betrayer. 

Uncle was dragged away in chains, his people welcomed him back, his father welcomed him back. He was crown prince again. He had everything he’d always wanted for so so long.

He was a betrayer. 

(He was a horrible nephew, too.)

(He looked in the mirror, like that time on the ship, years ago, and hated hated _hated_ the person he saw looking back at him.)

 

13\. He was a traitor—again. This time by choice. 

( _I should have guessed,_ his father said, _once a traitor, always a traitor.)_

He was a traitor, off to save his country. 

(Mostly, he was free.)

 

14\. He was a teacher. Years ago—maybe even months ago—he never would have thought himself adequate to teach someone else firebending, not with how long it took him to get it right, but. Here he was. 

Aang bowed to him every morning when they began and called him _Sifu Hotman_ even when Zuko snapped at him to _cut it out_ and generally acted like he was a pretty good teacher. Which was. Good to know. 

 

15. He was a friend. It was a very odd feeling, having friends, being other people’s friend. 

Katara teased him about the portraits she found buried in the beach house and Toph laughed at his bad jokes and Sokka asked him to spar. Aang looked at him like he trusted him. 

It was a very odd feeling, but he thought he could maybe get used to it.

 

16\. He was a soon-to-be ruler of the nation he’d betrayed, trying to get his robes on without hurting himself any further.

He looked in the mirror, later, putting his hair up and tying it tight, and for the first time in a long time, didn’t dislike the person looking back at him.

_“Fire Lord Zuko!”_ the Sage proclaimed, and the crowd _cheered,_ his friends and his allies and his family.

Zuko has been so many things in his life, but he thinks that maybe he’s finally grown into something he can be proud of. 

Someone good. 

(“We’ll rebuild it together.”) 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments give me life bruh help me make it through this damn paper i gotta write the first week back at school rip


End file.
